


An Americano and a White Chocolate Mocha

by itswheremydemonshide10



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Abuse, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itswheremydemonshide10/pseuds/itswheremydemonshide10
Summary: Robert and Vic's sibling bonding.





	An Americano and a White Chocolate Mocha

Robert scrolls through his phone as he waits for Vic to come back to their usual table. It’s a nice little spot they’d found a few months back, when they had both been broken and aching over their respective break-ups, and in desperate need of a distraction.

The little coffee shop in Hotten is close enough to Emmerdale that they can meet there once a week, but far enough away that they don’t have to worry about a nosy neighbour eavesdropping, like in Bob’s Cafe. It’s small and cosy, with dark wooden floorboards and cosy armchairs. And though neither of them would dare admit it to Bob, the coffee is a lot nicer here too.

They’ve kept their little weekly sibling meetings, even though both of them are doing better now. Robert has been in therapy for weeks, and he and Aaron are working on their relationship, slowly easing themselves into something new and healthier. Vic is happier too, even though she and Adam weren’t able to fix things, but she seems to have found a new lease of life as a single woman.

Robert watches her as she stands at the counter, the sunlight streaming through the nearby window lightening her dark hair where it lands on her twisted plaits. He can’t help noticing that her cheeks are glowing slightly, her hands moving animatedly as she talks to the barista, Robert’s americano and her white chocolate mocha sitting apparently forgotten on the counter between them.

It’s another few minutes before she returns to the table with their drinks, placing them on the table and perching on the chair opposite his, her feet folding up under her as she makes herself comfortable.

“Sorry, I got chatting. That nice barista asked for my brownie recipe. How sweet is that?” Vic explains, causing Robert to smirk.

“He was after something, but I don’t think it was your recipe book.” He says slyly, leaning forward to pick up his cup.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vic says quickly. A little too quickly.

“Oh come on, he’s been trying to get your number for the last three weeks. And don’t tell me you weren’t flirting back, this coffee’s almost cold.” Robert’s teases, but there’s no heat behind his words, just amusement. Vic’s cheeks go bright pink.

“Shut up!” She says, throwing a packet of sugar at his head.

“It’s alright, you’re allowed!”, Robert reassures her, taking a long sip of coffee. His eyes slide over to the counter, and he adds absentmindedly: “He’s cute.”

Vic’s is in the middle of drinking her mocha, but Robert sees her eyebrows shoot up above her mug, her gaze surprised.

“What?” He asks, feeling a bit self-conscious himself now.

“Nothing, it’s just… I’ve never heard you say something like that about a bloke before.” She says, her voice soft. “A bloke that’s not Aaron.” She amends with a roll of her eyes, when he looks at her sceptically.

“I’m not blind” Robert says, stirring his drink unnecessarily now, just for something to do to avoid looking at his sister.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Vic responds patiently. Her face is kind and sympathetic, but Robert still feels that old twinge of discomfort.

“I meant what I said when you and Chrissie split up, you know? I don’t care, I just want ya to be happy.” Vic says, as though it’s as simple as that.

Maybe it is as simple as that.

“I’m bisexual.” He blurts out into the awkward silence. “Sometimes I find men who I think are attractive, sometimes it’s women… It’s just how it’s always been for me…” He trails off, not sure why he still feels the urge to defend himself or explain, when there isn’t a single trace of judgement on Vic’s face. It might have something to do with the phantom sting of his battered 15-year old skin. He makes a mental note to mention it to his therapist at his next appointment.

Vic stands and drags her chair over next to Robert’s, so that she can lean across and pull him into a tight hug.

“Thank you for telling me.” She says, her voice sounding choked next to his ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

They must look ridiculous, tearfully hugging over cold coffee in public on a Monday afternoon. But with his sister’s arms around him, her warmth and the soft scent of her perfume oddly reminiscent of their mother, Robert decides he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.


End file.
